


The Undone and The Divine

by haztobegood



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Kneeling, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Sub Harry, Subspace, but it's consensual and they've discussed it, flirting with other people, one brief mention of subdrop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 20:38:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haztobegood/pseuds/haztobegood
Summary: Thirty seven love bites might be their new record, but then again, last night’s game had gone exceptionally well. Harry presses the pad of his thumb into one of the more prominent bruises along his collarbone, the pain grounding him as he recalls the events of the previous night.Or the one where Harry flirts and Louis gets jealous, but it’s all part of their game.





	The Undone and The Divine

Thirty four. That’s how many love bites Harry has counted so far. He’d wiped the steam from the full length mirror in their bathroom so he could assess the damage from their scene. His arms are pleasantly sore from being stretched above his head, his thighs ache from the bit of beard burn that flushes the smooth skin an angry red. Purple bruises are scattered along his neck, collarbone, abs, and thighs. There’s even a few littered amongst the black ink along his bicep. He turns in the mirror. As he’d expected there’s faint pink scratches trailing down his shoulders. They’d stung a bit under the warm water. There’s also three more bites on his left arse cheek. That brings the total to thirty seven. 

Thirty seven love bites might be their new record, but then again, last night’s game had gone exceptionally well. Harry presses the pad of his thumb into one of the more prominent bruises along his collarbone, the pain grounding him as he recalls the events of the previous night.

 

\-----

 

Harry exits his office building and starts his trek down the crowded street. He had stayed late to finish a project before he was able to leave for the weekend. He walks the few blocks to the gay bar his boyfriend, Louis, co-owned with his friend, Niall. Louis was bartending to help out with the beginning of the post-dinner rush at The Dagger until 7pm.

When he gets to the pub, Harry heads over to his favorite spot, the last bar stool along the worn mahogany bar. Louis tracks Harry’s movement up to the bar and walks over. “What can I get for you, love?” He sets a fresh paper coaster on the bar top.

Butterflies erupt in Harry’s stomach at the question. “The usual.” It was an innocuous response, one any of the regulars might say. But to Harry, it signaled the start of their game. 

Their game was born out of their exploration of kinks over the past few years together. They’d come to discover what they liked and how to best exploit their desires. One of their earliest discoveries was that Harry is a flirt and Louis gets very jealous. And that jealousy translated into very hot sex. This led them to develop a game of sorts that they worked into their scenes. 

Whenever Louis asked Harry “What can I get for you, love?” Harry’s response could instigate the night’s scene. If Harry requested “the usual” it meant he wanted to play their game. If Louis handed him a gin and tonic, it meant he wasn’t in the mood to play. But if he handed Harry a non-alcoholic drink, then the game was on. The rules are simple. Harry would get the remainder of Louis’ shift to flirt with as many people as he wants. All the while Louis would be stuck behind the bar, forced to witness the flirtatious behavior but unable to interject. At the end of Louis’ shift, he could take control of the scene and take Harry home. 

Louis set down a bubbly pink drink in front of Harry without a word. A Shirley Temple. The sweet mix of grenadine with the bubbly soda was garnished with a few extra cherries speared on blue plastic sword. Game on. Louis wandered down the bar to work on more orders without sparing Harry a second glance. It was going to be an interesting night, for sure. 

It only takes a couple minutes for Harry’s solitude to be interrupted by a man sliding into the empty barstool next to him. The man is tall and fit, with an angled face, dark brown eyes, and quiffed hair. They make small talk, giving the man ample opportunity to boast about his many cars and name drop his connections to random celebrities. As Harry sipped the last of his drink through the straw, he offers to buy a second. He waves Louis over to reorder their drinks and then abruptly turns back to Harry, placing his hand on Harry’s forearm as he continues to brag about his international travel and fancy job. Harry can feel the heat of Louis’ stare boring a hole through the hand on his arm. Harry decides it’s time to really rile Louis up. He continues acting impressed at the man’s claimed accomplishments and laughing at his tales. 

A second man walks up not five minutes after Harry turned down the first man’s proposition to take their night elsewhere. He buys him a drink and drunkenly attempts to seduce him, except his pick-up lines are so terrible, even Harry isn’t impressed. “Did’ya fall from heaven ‘cause you’re fine as hell.” and “Are you a pirate ‘cause you look bangable.” The lines definitely don’t work and the interaction only lasts a total of thirty seconds before the drunk man staggers off. 

Alone at the bar once again, nervous excitement starts to bubble under the surface. Harry gets lost in the rhythm of Louis’ movements behind the bar as he fills orders. Another man slides into the stool next to Harry and he genuinely has a good time chatting with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry catches Louis glaring at them, so he turns back to the man and turns up the banter. They get caught up in telling bad jokes and playfully flirting. Just moments later, Louis comes up beside Harry and possessively wraps an arm around his waist, effectively interrupting their conversation. 

“Sorry, mate, this one’s taken.” 

“Thanks for the drink, Aaron,” he hops off the stool. “It was fun talking with you.” He punctuates his goodbye with a small wave before following Louis out the back of the bar.

They walk in silence to their car. Louis open the passenger door and makes sure Harry is seated before heading to the driver’s side. The car ride is quiet, except for the radio playing top 40 hits faintly in the background. But it’s just background noise, as Harry is getting so anxious that he isn’t able to focus on lyrics. After shifting into drive, Louis rests his palm heavily, high up on Harry’s thigh the whole drive home. It serves to ground Harry, reminding him to stay present. But the touch also excites him at what will come. Anticipation courses through him as he allows his imagination to wander. What will their scene be like, what does Louis have planned? One of the best parts of the game is that Louis has his whole shift to devise the perfect scene. He doesn’t like to overthink it, knowing whatever Louis thinks up will be just what he needs. Harry hasn’t been disappointed yet. 

They pull into the underground car park at their flat and Louis turns off the key. He’s still staring ahead when he firmly instructs, “I want you kneeling in front of the bed, no clothes. No touching. You have ten minutes. Understand?” He finally turns to look at Harry. 

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good, go now.” 

Harry scrambles out of the car. His hands shake as he takes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks their front door. His movements feel weighted and slow and he’s already getting caught up in the fuzzy feeling edging at the sides of his mind. He enters the flat, not bothering with any lights. He goes to the bathroom and undresses, tossing each piece of clothing into the hamper. He’s already half hard as he removes his pants. He smooths his favorite scented lotion over his legs and runs a brush through his hair. He also clasps his favorite collar, made of soft black leather, around his neck. These simple preparations are like a ritual for their scenes. Harry seeks comfort in the process of preparing himself for their scene and it helps settle the fuzzy feeling at the edge of his mind. 

Harry enters the bedroom. His last task is to fold back the duvet and place it at the foot of the bed to provide a bit of padding for when he kneels. Finally, he’s ready. He gets into position, knees together and the tops of his feet flat on the floor. His hands rest folded in his lap and his head is bowed just like Louis always wants. Kneeling always makes Harry anxious and turns him on to no end. There’s the anticipation of what’s to follow but the desire to be good and be still while holding the slightly uncomfortable position for an unknown amount of time. He hears the front door shut just after getting settled into his position and breathes a sigh of relief. Hopefully his ten minutes is almost up. 

He hears Louis in the kitchen. Harry’s mind focuses in on the noises in the apartment, mentally following Louis around as he prepares for their night of playing. A cabinet door opens and the tap is turned on to fill a glass with water. The fridge closes and Harry knows he is grabbing some snacks to bring back to their room. Silence follows and Harry again loses track of time, ears straining to pick up any sound that would clue him in to Louis’ location. Part of the challenge of kneeling is the creeping anxiousness as he is left alone. Without the comfort of sensing Louis’ presence, Harry’s mind can easily wander to the edges of subdrop. 

It had happened one of the first times they’d played. Louis had tied him to their bed and left the room for thirty minutes. Although Louis was just outside the bedroom, sitting in the doorway, Harry lost sense of him, no sounds to indicate his presence, no reassurance that he wasn’t completely alone. The prolonged silence invited terrible thoughts and his panic flared as each imagined scenario led to a worse outcome. He began hyperventilating and immediately Louis rushed to his side. Together they worked through the panic attack and subdrop. Since that time, Louis had been incredibly careful to always make some noise and allow for Harry to be aware of his presence. 

“Beautiful,” Louis’ quiet exclamation from the doorway startles Harry. He doesn’t know how long Louis had stood there watching him, as he’s not allowed to look around when kneeling. “You look so good like this, I might just leave you there for longer and admire you.” Harry lets out a whine at the thought of not being able to move or be touched if Louis tells him to stay put. 

“Stay there, you look so pretty when you’re kneeling for me.” The praise encourages Harry to remain in his pose, now becoming increasingly difficult to remain still. His knees are slightly achy and his cock is fully hard but there’s no friction and no relief in sight. Harry bows his head farther and settles in. Louis didn’t say how much longer it would be and he wants to be good. His resilience when he wants to behave for Louis astounds even him sometimes. 

He once again follows Louis’ sounds around the bedroom. He hears clothing hitting the floor. Louis settles into an armchair to the left of Harry where he can just see Louis in the corner of his eye if he glances up from his bowed position. A sneak peek tells him Louis is bare, gently stroking himself as he watches Harry. Harry squirms. “Be still.” Harry’s head drops lower at the reprimand, hating the feeling of misbehaving and disappointing Louis. Through the thickening fog that’s settled over Harry’s mind, he hears Louis begin to talk and focuses in on each word. He doesn’t want to miss anything Louis is saying. “You’re so perfect like this. On display for me. Being good for me. All those others are so jealous. They wanted you.” His voice drops, deep and raspy, nearly a growl. “But you’re mine.”

There is a few moments of silence. Harry strains to hear any sign that Louis has moved from his chair, but doesn’t sense any movement. He starts to get anxious and struggles not to wiggle. Louis is sure to be watching him. Finally, he hears the floorboard creak as Louis walks over to their dresser. He opens the drawer the toys are kept in and Harry listens as he rifles through their collection.

“You’re kneeling very well for me tonight. Especially considering your bad behavior at the bar earlier. Are you trying to make it up to me? 

“Yes, I’m sorry I was bad.”

Louis takes a seat on the end of the bed directly in front of Harry. This is the position they usually discuss their scene in. Harry feels the full weight of Louis’ dominance as he sits taller and looks down at Harry’s vulnerable position. Harry strains his neck up to meet Louis’ eyes. The lamplight from the bedside tables behind Louis casts his face in ominous shadow while surrounding his hair in gold relief. Harry thinks of god-like figures of renaissance paintings he’s seen in museums. In this position, Louis radiates power and dominance. 

“You were bad.” Harry lowers his head and feels like he’s pinned in place by the weight of his stare. “You let all those men try to have their way with you. You led them on, letting them believe they’d have a shot at taking what’s mine. Tonight I’m going to remind you that you’re mine. Do you want to hear what I have planned for you?”

“Yes, Lou.”

“Tonight I’m going to remind you that you’re mine.I’m going to tie you up and take what belongs to me. I’m going to mark you up so everyone will know you belong to me. Then I’m going to edge you, just like you led all those people on but couldn’t follow through.” Harry closes his eyes and lets out a whine at that. Harry has a love-hate relationship with the way Louis edges him. Louis can be incredibly patient and always draws out the edging until Harry feels like he’s going to break. Though it always turns out wonderful in the end.

“You can talk or make noise tonight. The only rule for you is not to come until I say you can. You were greedy tonight, letting all those people talk to you while I had to watch. So I’m going to remind you that you are not to be greedy, that you only get what I will give you.

Louis’ gentle hand lifts Harry’s head so they are looking directly at each other. “Do you understand?” 

Harry whimpers, “Yes I understand.” 

“Tell me your rules and your safewords.” 

“I can’t come until you say. Green is go, yellow means pause, red means stop. I’m ready, I’m green.”

“Good, love. We’re gonna start slow. I want you to stand in front of the bed. Slowly, you’ve been kneeling for a while. I’m going to bind your arms. Then you’ll lay on the bed for me. You can stand now.”

He grabs a black rope and begins artfully crossing and weaving the length around Harry’s wrists. With a final knot to secure the bind, he moves aside to allow Harry to crawl onto the bed. With limited use of his hands, it’s a bit of a struggle but Harry needs to be good and follow Louis’ directions. He finally gets far enough up on the bed that he can grab the headboard with his tied hands for leverage. He pulls his legs toward the center of the bed and lays his head on the pillow, waiting for further instructions. 

Louis crawls onto the bed and settles between Harry’s spread legs. Harry feels incredibly exposed as his eyes survey him, laid out and waiting. A slight flush colors Harry’s cheeks and chest, from both anticipation and frustration. His breath quickens under the intense stare as he waits for Louis to do something, anything.

“Keep your hands up on the headboard. If you move them, I’ll tie your binds to the rungs so you can’t.” And then Louis bends forward to meet him in a kiss. It’s immediately fierce and dirty, tongue and heat. Before Harry is satisfied, Louis pulls back but only to trail small kisses and light nips with teeth along his jawline and down his neck. He focuses on his pulse point, at the spot just above where the collar rests, sure to leave a deep love bite in his favorite spot. Then Louis adds another love bite along his collar bone. Harry gets lost in the sensations of Louis’ attention to marking his skin, the contrast of his soft lips and sharp teeth. Impatient, Harry tries to urge Louis on to other, better things, but it only seems to spur him on to add more marks, along his love handles and mixed with the dark ink of his tattoos. As Louis sucks another love bite into a laurel, Harry feels like he might burst without any friction. He whines and begs until finally Louis looks up from his hip.

“Not being greedy are you?” Harry is quick to shake his head, afraid of being punished. “Good, then turn over.” When the order registers, Harry works to roll himself over without his arms. Louis helps situate him in the new position, legs spread out on the bed with his arms still raised above his head. 

He starts again at the top, kissing the metal clasp of the collar, before trailing sloppy kisses along the bumps of his spine. Louis then focuses his ministrations on a new spot on Harry’s inner thigh. The flesh quickly turns pink, rubbed raw by the stubble on Louis’ chin as he marks up Harry’s thigh. 

Harry is getting antsy and starts to shift his hips, seeking relief from the friction of the bedsheets. Suddenly, a lubed finger presses at his entrance and slides in to the first knuckle. Harry moans at the unexpected addition. 

“That’s right, baby. I’ll give you what you need.” Louis continues fingering him with his first finger at a slow pace. But the slow wet drag does little to satisfy Harry’s frustration and soon he tries to subtly rock his hips into the motion to take his finger deeper.

Harry moans as Louis brushes his finger against his prostate, but the sensation is immediately lost when Louis removes his finger. “I thought you were trying to be good tonight,” Louis reprimands, speaking slowly to let the full weight of his statements affect Harry. “But there you go being greedy and trying to take what you want.” Harry pouts, but listens intently for any command, not wanting to disappoint Louis further. “Gonna have to turn you over so you only get what I give you. Come on, on your back again.” They rearrange Harry again, this time Louis bending Harry’s legs at the knees before settling between them again.

His eyes wash over Harry as he takes in the darkening bruises from earlier, the warm pink of Harry’s flushed skin, and the heavy fullness of his neglected cock. He trails a fingertip through a smear of precome on Harry’s stomach and drags the fingertip down the length of his cock, causing Harry to shiver at the sensation that feels like not enough and too much all at once.

He continues to trace the finger down between his legs but doesn’t tease before resuming where he’d left off before. He thrusts his finger in to the second knuckle. His thrusts are still slow and deep until Harry begins to squirm his hips into the movements. As Louis doesn’t reprimand him for moving this time, Harry begins to thrust his hips. On the next downthrust Louis adds a second finger, and the added stretch catches Harry’s breath. He pauses and lets out a deep moan.

“Keep going, love.” Louis’s other hand settles onto Harry’s hip, thumb tracing the stem of the laurel there as he guides Harry’s pace. Harry resumes his motions, finding a rhythm but still not getting much relief for his hard cock. His frustration is made even worse by Louis’ attempts at avoiding his prostate with every movement.

“Please Lou, I want more. I want you.” Harry begs.

“Not yet.” Louis adds another finger. “Soon.” Finally Louis picks up the pace, twisting his fingers and searching for his spot. Harry moans when he finds it, only to have Louis withdraw his fingers. 

“Lou! Please,” Harry cries out.

“Baby, remember what your punishment was? Just a bit of edging, you can be good for me can’t you?”

“Yes Lou,” Harry turns his head to the pillow. 

Louis pressed his fingers back in and then immediately licks up the side of Harry’s cock before taking him into his mouth. He drag of his lips to the thrusts of his fingers and Harry completely submerged in the feeling of being pulled apart by Louis. A press of Louis’ fingertip to his spot is all it takes before his climax drowns out all his thoughts for a brief moment. And then he comes crashing back to the surface as he realizes he didn’t have permission to come.

“Sorry, so sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Harry begins mumbling apologies for his bad behavior through the mess of tears.

“Oh, baby. You weren’t supposed to come were you? I guess I’ll have to find another way to punish you for this. You’re just so greedy tonight. You only think of yourself and not what I want.”

Louis slicks his own cock with lube and pushes into Harry without warning. He lifts Harry’s legs over his arms and sets a brutal pace, fucking into his already sensitive hole. Harry stares up at him, eyes unfocused, while tears continue to stream down his face, soft moans escaping. His cock is thickening up between them again, but Louis’ weight is balanced on his hands as he continues to chase his own release. He adjusts his angle slightly and goes just a bit deeper before he’s suddenly spilling into Harry. He rocks his hips through his climax and gently withdraws. He lowers Harry’s legs and watches as his cum drips out of Harry’s hole. 

He catches the drip with two fingers and slides them back inside the wet heat. Harry is deep into subspace, tears tracing down his cheeks at the intensity of the heightened sensations while taking everything that Louis will give him. Louis moves his fingers, using his cum as lube. He angles his fingers to find his prostate. Harry comes, white splashing up his stomach for the second time that night. Louis withdraws his cum-covered fingers and brings them to Harry’s lips. Harry takes them, languidly licking them clean.

“Baby, you were so good for me.” Louis withdraws his fingers and kisses Harry. “I’m so glad you’re mine.” He begins to untie Harry’s wrists with tender movements as he unwinds the rope. He kisses each wrist and lowers his arms to his sides. Louis slides next to him and shuffles them on to their sides, cuddling Harry. 

It takes time to him to bring him back from subspace, especially when Harry is down so deep. It’s a process Louis savors, and never rushes. An endless supply of praise and the warmth of their cuddles keeps Harry feeling safe and loved. Touches and kisses bring him back to the surface as his senses slowly return to normal. Harry turns into Louis’ chest as he becomes aware of his limbs once again. He latches on, tangling his legs with Louis’ and burying his nose along Louis’ neck.

“Hey love,” Louis brushes a curl from Harry’s face. Harry glances up through his eyelashes to see Louis’ gentle smile and bright eyes. Unlike earlier tonight, when his smile was predator-like, with dominance darkening his eyes, this smile radiates the love and devotion that Louis provides. It’s Harry’s favorite of Louis’ many smiles. 

“How’re you feeling?” Louis continues to stroke his arms and pecks his cheek with a dry kiss. 

“Good. Love you.” Harry mumbles, then ducks his head back into Louis’ neck, ready to fall asleep.

“Nuh uh, gotta get us cleaned up before we can sleep, babe,” Louis jostles Harry gently as he extricates his limbs from Harry’s. But Harry just pulls him closer. 

“No, tomorrow.” 

“Fine, but I’m getting a rag to wipe you down first.” Louis is able to wipe them both down, and convinces Harry remove his collar and drink some water before bed. In less than five minutes, Harry is contentedly cuddled in Louis’ arms and drifts off to sleep.

 

\-----

 

Harry wraps his towel around his waist just as Louis enters the bathroom, his bare feet quiet on the tiles. He winds his arms around Harry’s waist from behind and holds him for a moment, their breaths in sync. 

“Good morning.” Harry leans back into the embrace.

Louis presses his lips to the largest mark, the one on left side of Harry’s neck, just below his ear. He rests his forehead on Harry’s shoulder. 

“Why’d you get out of bed.” Louis asks, voice still heavy from sleep.

“Needed a shower.” 

“I could’ve joined you.”

“But you hate when i wake you up.”

“Yeah ok.” Louis gazes at Harry’s reflection in the mirror. His mind is still a bit slow from sleep, so he doesn’t realize right away why Harry looks different, but when he does his eyes widen and he spins him around to take in his chest fully. “Oh my god. There’s so many.”

“Yep, you weren’t kidding when you said you’d mark me up. There’s 37, Lou.”

Louis’ brow furrows and he looks him over, then meets his eye “Was that alright?”

“Of course, nothing I love more than being yours,” Harry seals his statement with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! [Here](https://haztobegood.tumblr.com/post/184073530068/haztobegood-the-undonde-and-the-divine-by) is a rebloggable post for the fic.


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